


The Magic Space Alien Robot Lion Theatre Company Presents

by stanzas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Humor, Let Allura Keep Her Lion 2k18, M/M, The lions can talk, this type of humor borders on crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-14 11:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanzas/pseuds/stanzas
Summary: Somehow, by some unexpected turn of fate, they discovered the lions could talk.





	The Magic Space Alien Robot Lion Theatre Company Presents

**Author's Note:**

> me: has 4 work assignments i could be working on  
> me, instead of doing that: here's like 8k of whatever the fuck this is. also; LET! TEAM! VOLTRON! SAY! FUCK! 
> 
> hhhhhhhnn that title is something. and i know i vanished on here for 6 months again but its because i hate writing. i am sorry if you subbed to me for yoi stuff because i am Afraid i am another victim to this dumb magic furry robot show. i woke up one day and thought "what if the lions talked like really loud toddlers with an outdated but very extensive and unnecessary vocabulary" and hence this disaster was brought into being. 
> 
> i'm gay and therefore can't spell anything right ever. fuck you  
> minor warning: about 40% of this fic is in **ALL CAPS** like this and a truly _horrific_ size 24 font. if you have trouble reading really big letters/all caps then you probably don't want to continue reading.
> 
> i own all Voltron and all the rights to the characters so consider this all canon as of now. deuces.

Lance is the first to find out, because he’s the first that found (and bonded with) his lion.

(At least, that’s the bullshit answer Allura provides to explain this stream of consciousness fuckery happening in Lance’s brain.)

See, in all his time battling in a giant magic robot lion to fight evil space aliens, Lance learned a lot of things. First, the laws of the universe are broken. Secondly, his life is filled with ass-shaped mistakes. Thirdly, he is frankly too handsome to be dealing with shit like this. He also learned how to shoot a gun, and shoot it well. His time in space taught him so much and prepared him for so many things.

Lance was not prepared for a metric-ton of volume to slam into his head and break open the sound barrier. _In his mind._

He was eating breakfast and suddenly there was another voice in his head that was definitely not his own. There weren’t words, exactly, or if there were they were so jumbled and unintelligible he couldn’t translate them into words his brain or anybody else could understand.

Lance has no memory of the incident, only his awareness of eating breakfast and then waking up in his bed with a headache that could split open his skull.

“Wh-wha-who-what?” Lance flies out of bed and nearly smashes his face into Shiro, who is dozing in a chair besides Lance’s bed.

Shiro startles at the cry, and there’s a moment of shared panic between them before Shiro gently puts his hands on Lance’s shoulders and says in the most zen yoga instructor voice possible, “Lance. _Lance_. Can you hear me? Calm down.”

“Holy fuck a duck,” Lance says, very loudly. Shiro’s voice sounds close, but Lance’s own voice sounds like it’s muffled through fifty sheets of cotton. Shiro winces when Lance unleashes a stream of cursing in several different languages. (Not because of the words. Because -- _unknowingly_ \-- Lance is practically screaming into his ears.)

“You passed out at breakfast,” Shiro explains, after Lance calms down and his hearing returns to something passing normal. “We were really worried about you, Lance.”

“If you weren’t worried on my behalf, I’d fire all of you as my friends.” Lance says, and because he’s making jokes already Shiro figures he’ll probably be okay.

It doesn’t happen again until Lance is in the middle of a mission. Allura and Coran were “unsure” (and _secretive_ ) about Lance’s diagnoses, and purposefully vague after giving him a clean bill of health and declaring him fit to return to normal duties. Coran scanned him with his magic Altean Health Wand Thing and said “you’re righter and fitter than a __ in the __ of __!” (Lance stopped paying attention midway through the sentence and half the stuff Coran says makes no sense to him anyway, so he has no idea what the comparison was. Even if he remembered, there’s no chance Lance would’ve known what it meant.)

Lance is using the leveled platforms above the extraction point to scope out the whole battlefield. It’s this type of set-up he usually prefers, giving him the time for the best accuracy and lower his chances of somebody unfriendly sneaking up on him.

Shiro and Keith stick to close combat. Pidge is usually on her own, using her environment and whatever nifty electronics she can find to take down any enemies that get too close. Or she uses her bayard and fries them on the spot.

Hunk sticks to his Tank role, which usually entails taking out his Big Gun and shooting everything in front of him in wide, sweeping arcs.

The sentries don’t stand a chance. When the wave of sentries is at a manageable level, Keith and Pidge run off to investigate a room down the hall with information about Galra trading posts and suggestions for new potential targets. Lance shoots the remaining sentries lingering by the hangar, a few stragglers by the exit.

“Good job, paladins,” Allura says over the coms. Lance sits up on the ledge he’s perched on and stretches his legs. “Now if we’d just --”

Suddenly, his mind is wiped clean, like a vacuum formed at the base of his skull. And a voice, so large and powerful, all of Lance’s other senses stop transmitting information. The voice is not his own, and as loud as it is, Lance knows it’s not coming from around him. It’s coming from his head.

HELLO?

(Lance falls off the ledge and nearly breaks his spine in half on impact. Hunk, who is lingering by the wall, is thankfully paying attention and leaps with the help of his jetpack to meet him.)

Lance wakes up in his room again, except this time it’s to his entire team crowding around his bed.

“Oh, good, you’re alive.” Allura says, balancing the edge of relieved, but disapproving. “Now, _next_ time, pay attention where you’re walking.”

Lance stares at her. “I didn’t _walk_ off the _ledge_!” Lance cracks embarrassingly high at the end. “I heard a noise and it spooked me.”

“Noise?” Shiro asks. “Hunk didn’t say he heard anything.” Hunk shakes his head solemnly in agreement.

“It was more like a voice,” Lance corrects. “A really, _really_ , loud voice.”

“Oh?” Allura asks, and there’s a gleam in her eyes that betrays her excitement and curiosity. “What did the voice say?”

“ _‘Hello_?’” Lance locks eyes with Keith, who is glaring at Lance for whatever reason. Lance figures that’s a Keith problem.

“Ominous,” Hunk mutters. “Hearing voices, next you’ll be moving stuff with your mind.”

“No, if Lance is hearing voices it’s actually a very good thing,” Coran pipes in. “Specifically the voice he’s hearing.”

Lance looks between Allura, Coran, and the rest of the unimpressed paladins. “Uh? How?”

“It means your connection to the lion is strong enough your brain now understands the lion’s thoughts in a form your brain understands.” Allura says, lightly clasping her hands together. “Your last experience raised my suspicions, but if you heard a voice -- then it must be your lion.”

“So, it’s like, picking up the same wavelengths as us?” Pidge asks, the first she’s spoken at this impromptu meeting. Lance wishes they could have this discussion in the briefing room. Hunk’s hands are twitching at his sides, so maybe he feels Lance’s own claustrophobic anxiety in the room. “Instead of just vague colors and feelings. Like it used to. Or, for the rest of us right now.”

“I’m sure the rest of you will connect with your lions this way too, in time.” Allura replies. “Usually it only occurs during battles, so it is unusual that Lance’s lion is trying to connect with him outside of combat.”

“Maybe she’s lonely,” Lance suggests. Shiro shoots him an unimpressed look. Allura cocks her head to the side like she’s considering it.

“Perhaps.” Allura says. “Hopefully, next time she contacts you, it won’t render you immobile.”

“Bet.” Lance says. “Now, thanks for the chat -- and I know I literally just woke up -- but I’m going back to sleep.”

* * *

“Hey, Blue,” Lance says as he walks into the hangar. He feels rested, recovered, and the universe is his bitch. His lion talks now? Cool. He can roll with this.

He stops short in front of Blue, and cracks a grin in preparation for his smoothest line of the day. “How’s my favorite girl? Looking _good_ today, gorgeous.”

I APPRECIATE YOUR FLATTERY YOUNG PALADIN, BUT I AM AFRAID I DO NOT CONTAIN THE RIGHT EQUIPMENT TO BE A SUITABLE MATE FOR SOMEONE OF YOUR KIND.

“Holy _FUCK_ ,” Lance yells, all semblance of _Cool_ out the airlock and into the void of space.

“The blue lion has always been...the most talkative of the lions.” Allura consoles Lance, later, after Lance made a strategic retreat (Keith: “You mean you fled and hid in your room.” Shiro: “ _Shh_.”) from the hangar to recover from this very alarming development. “It could be you were right; the blue lion hasn’t spoken to another besides her fellow lions for a very long time. She may be lonely.”

“She had no right to give me a heart attack,” Lance whines. “Her voice is so _loud_!”

Allura shrugs. Lance doesn’t know where she learned that human gesture, or if she’s learned it through copying the body language of him and the others on the team. “The lion is communicating in a way that is very... _primitive_. To the lions, that is. They’re channeling the sheer power of quintessence to the small energy waves of thought inside your brain. It’s very limiting for them.”

“And that means whenever they talk they’re going to blow my eardrums out,” Lance says, and makes a dramatic show of rubbing his ear for sympathy points. “Great.”

“I’m interested in how that works,” Pidge interrupts. “Are they even speaking English? Or just a human equivalent of what sounds like language...I’ll need to run some experiments. Lance, what’s your blood type again?”

“Blue blood,” Lance answers easily, and ducks under Hunk’s tackle-hug (which is obviously a ploy to trap him here and subject him to Pidge’s Unnecessary and Evil Invasive Tests). “I’m royalty, don’t you know?”

Allura frowns. When Pidge distracts Lance by leaping onto him, Allura slyly shifts over to Hunk’s side. She whispers to Hunk, “Humans don’t normally possess blue blood, unless I am mistaken?”

“Depends on their lineage,” Hunk replies, straightfaced. “And how much money their parents inherited.”

Allura blinks at him. “It’s a dumb human analogy thing,” Hunk explains seriously. “Trust me, it’s not worth the trouble of explaining.”

“I see,” Allura says. “Well, in any case, it is good that Lance has bonded so well with his lion. I can only hope you and the others develop a strong enough bond to communicate with your lion this way as well.”

“About that...” Hunk bites his lip and considers, before he plows on forward. “I mean, I get it’s a new step in bonding and whatnot, but what’s so important about the lions speaking to us? We get by just fine with the lion’s being vague and nudging us in the right direction...okay, I kind of see your point. It helps with communication. And _miscommunication_.”

“That, and the lions are allowing you to view one another as equals.” Allura smiles, a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. “They are learning your language to better serve you. It’s an honor, and a privilege. Only the strongest of bonds can maintain a connection clear enough to host a conversation.”

“Oh,” Hunk says, and fiddles with his thumbs. “Well. I hope you’re right.”

Hunk’s lion speaks to him a few days after Lance’s last “conversation” with his own lion. Hunk is sitting in the cockpit, rambling to himself about all food he’s going to make when he has a functional oven when he hears it.

Hunk is trying to distract himself from thinking about his family (and he’s doing it unsuccessfully). Sometimes his mind decides it’s going to dump all the lingering worries at the back of his mind and shine a spotlight on them. He misses his family. He misses his moms. He misses his uncle, and his nieces and nephews, and he misses his dog. He misses his Mama’s hugs.

IT IS UNWISE TO BURDEN YOUR THOUGHTS. DO NOT FILL YOUR MIND WITH WORRIES, MY PALADIN. The lion thunders.

Hunk winces and covers his ears, but it doesn’t stop the tsunami wave of sound coming from inside his own head.

“Um. Thanks.” Hunk says, too stunned to react beyond the small jump at the first word. “Uh, hi, Yellow.” He rubs his hands along his thighs, a nervous habit. He understands why Lance made a big deal about the volume -- he was right. It’s _loud_.

Still, despite the interruption, his thoughts circle back to his Mom, his Mama’s hugs. What if he never makes it back to Earth? What if he never gets another hug from his moms? What if the last time he saw them was at the Garrison? What if he dies out here in space, galaxies away from his home and his moms will never know what happened to him out here, how he --

The lion interrupts again, and although the volume doesn’t change, it’s softer. Consoling.

AS LONG AS YOU ARE MY PALADIN I AM HERE TO PROTECT YOU AND YOU SHALL COME TO NO HARM. YOU WILL REUNITE WITH YOUR LOVED ONES AGAIN. I HAVE BORNE WITNESS TO YOUR STRENGTH AND YOUR DESIRE TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT. I, IN TURN, SHALL PROTECT YOU FROM THOSE WHOSE INTENTIONS ARE NOT AS PURE.

Hunk’s not great with unexpected comfort, so when he bursts into tears he’s not surprised. His reaction alarms his lion, however.

HAVE I MISSPOKEN? FORGIVE ME. 

“No, it’s good.” Hunk says, and hiccups. Space is crazy. This is crazy. He’s crying about his moms and a giant magic robot space lion is telling _him_ it’s going to be okay. He’s starting to get Lance’s routine in the morning where he stares into his food and mutters “ _this is fucking insane_ ” before he eats. “Buddy, you said exactly what I needed to hear.”

Pidge’s lion talks to her soon after Hunk’s. Her lion doesn’t understand any of the references or memes Pidge replies with (Pidge: “Hewwo? Mwister Gween Wion, are you there?” Green: “I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOUR JOKE, FORGIVE ME.”). The lion tells her she is very funny despite not understanding any of her jokes. The lion says humor is an important trait to have in a paladin.

“Why humor?” Pidge asks.

JUST BECAUSE I AM A GIANT MECHANICAL MAGIC ROBOT LION DOES NOT MEAN I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT OF ENTERTAINMENT. 

“Okay, fair point, that was wrong of me to assume.” Pidge narrows her eyes. “Wait. What kind of entertainment?” The lion considers, and responds with a vague feeling of exhilarating glee -- like laughing so hard it hurts to breathe, or laughing from the sheer joy of being alive.

“What about pranks?”

Her lion’s wave of confusion is answer enough.

“You don’t know what _pranks_ are?”

NO, BUT I AM INTERESTED IN LEARNING. MY PALADIN, I WOULD BE HONOURED IF YOU WOULD TEACH ME YOUR “PRANKS.”

“Oh boy,” Pidge smirks. “The others aren’t going to know what hit them.”

* * *

Keith admits he’s kind of looking forward to speaking with his lion. All Lance talked about at dinner was Blue and how they spent hours talking about their favorite things to do and the greatest feeling in the universe -- flying. Hunk didn’t talk about his lion as much, but he did share his lion’s aptitude for tuning into Hunk’s emotions and calming him down when his anxiety was bad. Pidge and her lion were already thick as thieves (and Keith is sure they are plotting...something).

While the others sleep, Keith slides out of his own bed and heads to the hangar.

“Well.” Keith says, when he enters the cockpit. “Hi. I’m uh, Keith. Your paladin.” He winces. Way to impress. “Sorry for yelling at you about that...earlier.” He feels Red stir a bit in the back of his mind. The lion is listening, at least.

“I’m...not really sure how we do this. Do I talk first? Am I even supposed to talk out loud?”

Red’s amusement flickers through him. He’s enjoying himself at least. Bastard.

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Keith grumbles. “I thought maybe you’d want to...chat. Bond. Ugh, I don’t know.”

I DO NOT ENJOY COMMUNICATING IN THIS WAY, the red lion says, after a moment.  THE OTHER LIONS TAKE PLEASURE IN THEIR ABILITY TO CREATE EQUAL CONVERSATIONS. I AM NOT LIKE THEM. I PREFER ACTIONS OVER THESE WORDED LIMITATIONS. IF YOU OR I MUST KNOW SOMETHING OF THE OTHER, IT WILL BE KNOWN.

“Oh.” Keith says, and tries to hide his disappointment. He hoped -- for, well, _something_. Lance described the sensation like having a twin -- a magic robot lion twin. _It’s like we’re the same brain,_ Lance explained. _She gets me probably better than any other sentient being in the universe. Except Hunk, maybe. Or my mom._

Keith, who fought and scraped tooth and nail through his life without any of those things kind of -- no, desperately -- wanted something like that for his own. A selfish want, now.

“Uh. Guess I’ll just...sit here. In silence.”

THAT IS PROBABLY FOR THE BEST.

_The quintessence of the lion mirrors their paladin,_ Allura said once. Maybe because Keith is a wary, lonesome creature, who communicates out of necessity, his lion is too.

 _Some twins, huh,_ Keith thinks sarcastically.

Maybe this is what he deserves. Maybe he’s doomed to a life like this. Always shut out. Always the loner. Even by the lion supposedly meant for him. The one being to supposedly understand him better than anyone or anything else.

Maybe --

I CAN HEAR YOUR TROUBLED THOUGHTS, MY PALADIN. AND I WISH I COULD COMFORT YOU LIKE THE OTHERS. I MEANT NO DISRESPECT. IT IS NOT THAT I DO NOT WISH TO BOND WITH YOU, ONLY THAT I HAVE GREAT DIFFICULTY DOING SO.

“You’re just like me,” Keith grumbles, but he finds it in himself to lift the corner of his mouth. “Words aren’t my strong suit either.”

The lion doesn’t nod, but Keith feels his agreement.

YOU WILL UNDERSTAND, The lion swears.  YOU WILL UNDERSTAND MY DEVOTION TO YOU, MY PALADIN, AND MY LOYALTY. YOU WILL EARN IT, AND KNOW IT AS SURELY AS YOU KNOW THE NAME BY WHICH YOU RESPOND. YOU _WILL_ UNDERSTAND IT.

Keith manages a small smile. “Words suck, huh?”

WORDS DO, AS YOU SAY, SUCK. 

* * *

“The black lion may not speak to you unless you speak to it first,” Allura suggests, after weeks pass and Shiro receives a very stoney silence from the last lion. “Like the red lion, the black lion is not known for its...communication skills.”

“But it’s the _head_.” Shiro argues. “The black lion is the _head_ of Voltron. It’s supposed to communicate with everyone. You would think communication is a requirement.”

Allura gestures off-handedly. “Why don’t you ask that of the lion?”

Shiro figures he set himself up for that one.

Standing under the black lion, Shiro feels...very small. The lion towers over him, an intimidating presence on all accounts. Shiro’s never been frightened of his lion, or the lion’s capabilities, but sometimes...he feels strange. The lions aren’t malleable wills. They have their own agendas and intent. He usually brushed it aside, but if the lion speaks...it changes the field altogether.

It’s like the safety net is stripped away. He once rode on the back of a silent hurricane, but now the hurricane is free and ready to release the screams and storms.

“Uh…” He coughs, and clears his throat. “Hi. I’m Shiro. You...probably already know that. I’m your paladin.” The black lion doesn’t react.

“Hey...uh... _Hello_?”

GREETINGS TO YOU, the lion speaks.

“Oh, holy shit,” Shiro says eloquently.

I DO NOT DEFECATE, the lion replies. YOU MUST BE MISTAKEN. 

“I didn’t mean it like -- nevermind. Well, I’m not really sure what to say, so, maybe you should talk instead?”

I AM THE BLACK LION, THE HEAD OF VOLTRON, HE WHO LEADS THE GREAT DEFENDER YOU CALL VOLTRON. I CANNOT SPEAK. WHAT YOU UNDERSTAND IN THIS CONVERSATION IS NOT SPEAKING, IT IS MERELY THE CLOSEST YOUR HUMAN BRAIN CAN UNDERSTAND FROM MY CHANNELED ENERGIES TO CONVEY THE INFORMATION I WISH TO SHARE WITH YOU. IF ANYONE HERE IS TO “SPEAK”, AND VIBRATE THE MOLECULES OF AIR FOR THAT OF AUDIBLE SOUND, IT WILL BE YOU.

_I think I understand what Allura meant now,_ Shiro thinks.

* * *

Fighting with the lions with the connection open like this is...different.

The lions don’t make comments like “ _on your left!_ ” or “ _look out, large and scary incoming doom monster!_ ” while flying. For the most part, they’re in tune with the battle. Although their comments are sometimes distracting.

Lance’s lion has the same attention span as Lance, but that improves his reaction times by a considerable margin.

Hunk’s lion doesn’t speak much. Instead, his lion thrums with anticipation and a wordless comfort to Hunk.

Pidge’s lion is starting to understand how jokes work, except her lion misses the point of them by about 30 billion light years and Pidge tries not to cackle in her seat while they’re fighting. For example;

I AM A MAN AT A BAR ON A PLANET, LIKELY EARTH, AND I ORDER DRINKS. I ASK THE MAN AT THE BAR FOR A LIQUID ITEM, WHICH I PURCHASE. I CONSUME THE LIQUID BEVERAGE. IT IS FILLED WITH TWO HYDROGEN ATOMS BONDED TO A SINGLE OXYGEN MOLECULE. MY FRIEND IS WITH ME. HE REQUESTS THE SAME EXCEPT HE ASKS FOR AN EXTRA OXYGEN MOLECULE. HE DIES IMMEDIATELY.

“ _God_ ,” Pidge says under her breath, wheezing from the effort of holding in her laugh. Her lion takes this as encouragement, and preens.

The black lion, despite being “impossible to hold a conversation with” (as described by Shiro) is by far the most talkative besides Blue.

THIS BEAST IS FAR MORE INTELLIGENT THAN THE OTHERS HAGGAR HAS SENT TO DESTROY US, the black lion notes.  I FEAR SHE MAY BE IMPROVING HER USE OF DRUIDIC MAGIC TO STRENGTHEN HER MONSTERS. THAT IS DEEPLY WORRYING FOR THE FUTURE OF OUR MISSION.

Shiro relays this information to the rest of the team. “Oh, is it?” Lance snaps sarcastically.

“I’m kind of getting shredded over here!” Keith bites over the comms. “I need backup or an escape plan, _now_!”

“You say the most romantic things,” Lance hurls back, as he swerves and dodges out of the line of ships to lock into position next to Keith. “You’re really grating my cheese, baby. Get it? Because you’re shredded?”

Keith is silent for a moment. “Do you ever make sense or do you reserve this kind of nonsense for me?”

“Only for you, my sweet sugar plum.” Lance makes a kissy noise over the coms.

Keith leans forward in his seat, brows furrowed, arms braced on his thighs. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Don’t worry, Red, I’m just teasing you. If I was really flirting with you, your head would spin so fast it’d take off like a copter.”

“Then _what_ are we -- what is this? Did the wires in your head get crossed between fighting and flirting?”

“Same difference! If you didn’t want to punch your crush in the face every time they -- _uh_. Nevermind. I’m teasing you. In a friendly-ish way. Sort of. I guess that’s actually, well, _technically_ , flirting, but, yanno...”

There’s an awkward pause, strong enough it reduces the rest of the team silent along with it. “Uh,” Keith says.

“Anybody feeling like forming Voltron sometime soon?” Hunk asks, mostly to relieve the tension over the coms. “Because I feel like it’s a very good forming Voltron time.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Pidge says. “I want the Ping-Pong match to continue. The ball’s kind of up in the air.” Her lion sends a wave of amusement in response, and Pidge laughs. “That _was_ a good joke! I’m glad somebody here appreciates my humor.”

“It was a good joke, Pidge.” Hunk grumbles. “But I was too busy getting my butt kicked to laugh about it!”

“ _Ping-Pong?_ ” Lance demands. Of _course_ he fixates on _that_.

Shiro withholds his sigh and collects himself. He straightens his spine. “Alright, enough. Keith, Lance, flank it from the rear. Hunk and I will draw it’s fire. Pidge, find a weak point -- _any_ weak point -- on this thing. We’ll figure this out. Go!”

The problem is this -- ship beast? Kraken monster? -- doesn’t really have any weak-points. After getting slammed across space like a volleyball a few times, Shiro calls the group to retreat.

“This fucking sucks,” Lance says.

INDEED, the blue lion agrees.

“Language,” Shiro says, out of habit.

“ _Language_?” Lance repeats. “Okay, Mr. ‘ _I stubbed my toe on the table and cussed about it for the next eight minutes straight_ -’”

“Focus, Lance.”

IT IS A MIRACLE ANYTHING IS ACCOMPLISHED HERE, the green lion confides to Pidge. YOU ARE ALL SO VERY DIFFERENT.

“I think that’s why it works,” Pidge replies sagely. “We balance each other out.”

“Pidge? You talking to somebody?” Hunk asks.

“Green had a question. Don’t worry about it.”

“Paladins,” Allura interrupts over the coms. “What is your status?”

“Fucked,” Lance mutters. “With a side of totally screwed.”

“We’re not sure of our next course of action.” Shiro answers. “This ro-beast appears impervious to attacks from the outside.”

“Maybe we _shouldn’t_ attack from the outside...” Pidge suggests.

“Oh, no,” Hunk says. “We are not doing the Jonah and the Whale thing -- _no_. I refuse. Not again.”

“Defeat the beast from the inside out, eh?” Coran hums over the com. “I’d say it’s worth a shot!”

“You always say that.” Hunk grumbles. “Because you’re not the one jumping in the mouth of a giant robot beast that wants to kill you.”

Shiro lets the comment slide. “Well, unless anybody has any other suggestions, we’ll start from there.”

* * *

Killing the beast from the inside out? Works really well. Works fantastic, actually. Team Voltron’s unrecognized stroke of luck finally pulls in a big one.

I MUCH PREFERRED FIGHTING THE BEAST FROM THE OUTSIDE. The yellow lion comments.

The beast is dead and they’re sitting ( _literally_ ) in the smoking flesh and charred remains. Hunk is glad he didn’t eat before they entered the battle, or he might not have a choice except to see his food a second time.

“Me too, buddy.” Hunk says.

“I think I’m stuck.” Lance calls out. “Blue isn’t budging.”

Hunk tries to move next. Yellow struggles for a minute, but it’s like they’re stuck to a giant ball of gum. Yellow doesn’t say anything but sends a wordless wave of regret.

“It’s okay bud, not your fault.” Hunk consoles him.

I BELIEVE THE BEAST’S INTERNAL STRUCTURE HAS CONFINED US HERE, the green lion muses.

Hunk startles a bit. He hadn’t heard the other lions speak until now, and although there was no actual difference in the way the lions spoke in his mind, he _knew_ it was the green lion that spoke.

“Hm.” Pidge says. “Curious. _Punched_ our way _in_ fine. Didn’t think an exit strategy would be necessary.”

“Paladins?” Allura asks. “Is everything alright?”

“We’re stuck!” Lance cries, and Hunk watches him slump over in his seat through their video link.

“No, we’re not.” Keith says, and shoots into the beast’s side. The flesh burns on contact with the lazer and when he stops firing he leaves behind a charred scar.

“You really thought that’d work, huh,” Pidge says.

“Is it the...skin trapping us in?” Shiro asks.

“Don’t know,” Pidge says. “Can we form the sword and cut through it?”

Keith, without needing any further confirmation, plunges his bayard in. Voltron, the Mighty Defender of Free People, swings the Sword of Justice. The corpse skin is apparently not immune to justice, because it slices through the skin like warm butter.

With that mental image, Hunk _does_ wretch.

“You good?” Lance asks.

“I need space ginger ale,” Hunk says. “ _Ghnnghrk_.”

As they return to the castle, Shiro asks the lions if it knew anything about the beast they fought. “You gave this feeling like it was familiar,” Shiro hesitates. “Have you fought this beast before?”

NO, the black lion answers in a clipped tone.

The green lion hums, before butting in;

PERHAPS NOT THE SAME, BUT WE HAVE FOUGHT A BEAST WITH SIMILAR CHARACTERISTICS BEFORE WITH THE PALADINS OF OLD. THE BLACK LION DOES NOT WISH TO SPEAK OF IT.

“Is that true?” Shiro asks.

IT IS UNCLEAR.  The black lion says.  THE SIMILARITIES COULD BE MERE COINCIDENCE.

The blue lion prods the black lion’s consciousness in a manner similar to a poke.

WHAT SAY YOU, SPIRIT OF WATER?

IT IS BECAUSE BLACK IS AN OLD SPINELESS GELATIN-LIMBED CRUSTACEAN, the green lion mutters. The lion’s voice is lower, but it’s the same volume as the other lions. (Hunk doesn’t understand how that works but, then again, he doesn’t understand half of the Universe’s Bullshit Laws). AND A PETTY BITCH. 

HAVE YOU WORDS WITH ME, SPIRIT OF THE FOREST?

YOU HEARD ME.

The black lion balks.

The green and blue lion gently nudge each other’s consciousness together in a manner Hunk translates as the lion equivalent of a high-five. The black lion says nothing, but Hunk and the other paladins feel the lion’s trembling fury.

Later, the paladins collapse in the lounge in an unorganized heap. Lance turns over on his stomach and looks up at the ceiling and says to Shiro, “You weren’t kidding when you said Black was hard to talk to.”

“Oh, I know,” Shiro answers, in the kind of resigned tone a parent uses when they talk about their disobedient child.

“Man, that sucks. Me and Blue are tight. I feel bad for you son,” Lance says sympathetically. “But _I got 99 problems and --_ ”

“Alright, _goodnight_.”

* * *

The reign of the black lion’s unhelpfulness does not end there.

“How do I get rid of Zarkon?” Shiro begs his (so far) unresponsive lion. Shiro doesn’t know how he ended up in this dimension. He doesn’t know how physics work here, except that it sucks and he’d like to leave. Zarkon won’t give up his hold over the black lion so easily. Shiro really wishes Black would wake up and help out. Shiro is pretty sure Black is intentionally ignoring him. “He’s too strong.”

INFORM LORD ZARKON HE MUST CONSUME THE CONTENTS OF MY LARGE DROOPING BALLSACKS, the black lion replies. FOR HE IS NOTHING BUT A REPELLANT PUSS-FILLED WARMONGER AND AN ABHORRENT DISTRACTION FROM MY RESTING CYCLES. 

“I don’t think he’s going to like that,” Shiro says. He dodges under Zarkon’s next swing while wondering when his life became a game of messenger between an enormous magic sentient lion and the emperor of the greatest evil force in the galaxy.

INFORM ZARKON I HAVE MOVED TO A NEW REALITY, AND CANNOT HEAR HIM ANYMORE.

“I don’t think he’ll believe that either.”

SHUSH. SILENCE FROM YOU AND YOUR IRRITANT NOISE CREATOR. I AM THINKING.

“Why can’t you tell Zarkon to go away yourself?”

I CAN’T.

“ _What’s that supposed to --_ I don’t want to keep fighting him in the shadow dimension. And could you _help_ me out?” Shiro ducks and rolls under Zarkon’s next mighty swing. “I’m kind of getting my ass kicked here.”

I DON’T WANT TO. ALSO, NO.

“You’re being stubborn.”

I AM NOT. I AM THE BLACK LION, HE WHO FORMS THE HEAD OF THE MIGHTY DEFENDER YOU CALL VOL-

“If you’re not going to help me, I’m going to die here. If I live, I’m going to ask Pidge to talk to the green lion for answers since you’re not being helpful.”

_NO_. 

“Well, if there’s no other options, then --”

Zarkon catches him off-guard and sends Shiro flying. Before he can recover, Zarkon grabs him by the neck and raises him.

“You will die here,” Zarkon snarls.

 _Help_ , Shiro thinks. _Please._

By some miracle, the black lion answers him.

* * *

With the revelation the old paladins included Lord Zarkon _himself_ , the paladins spend a few days confined to their own respective hangars.

“What were they like?” Lance asks Blue, while he’s hanging from Blue’s internal machinery. “Your old paladin, I mean.”

BRAVE. The blue lion says. SELFLESS. STRONG-WILLED, BUT FLEXIBLE. THE MEDIATOR. THE MOST WILLING TO COMPROMISE. TRUE OF HEART.

He feels Blue stir with a sad feeling, perhaps nostalgia. And it’s directed at him. Lance perks up. “They remind you a bit of me, huh?”

OF COURSE, Blue answers dryly. ALSO INCREDIBLY FOOLISH.

“ _Hey_!”

Blue huffs. Lance assumes this translates as a laugh.

* * *

They fight Zarkon.

And they _win_.

The relief lasts all of thirty seconds when the black lion’s coms are silent. The cockpit is empty. Shiro is gone.

* * *

There is no one to pilot Black. The black lion does not speak to any of them when they enter -- not Pidge, or Hunk, or Coran, or Lance, or Allura.

The lions (as talkative as they are on a normal day) are strangely silent. Hunk gets the feeling the lions are speaking amongst themselves. He feels a little hurt, like he found out some of his friends are talking about him behind his back.

It’s very unsettling.

That strange, tip-of-the-roller-coaster anxiety persists even when the black lion opens for Keith. Something changed. Everything is the same, more or less -- except the empty space at the table, and the space now occupied by Keith.

And then, because if the world hadn’t turned on it’s head before, the blue lion does not open for Lance.

“ _Blue!_ ” Lance demands. “This isn’t funny!”

She is a silent echo in his mind. Like the space he didn’t even recognize she took up in his mind is now bereft, an empty apartment where he once used to live and knew but when he arrives at the doorstep the floor and furniture is gone.

Blue does not speak to him.

Red _does_.

Allura tells him to answer to Red. She watches him leave, running headfirst into change he probably never saw coming. She knows that Blue must’ve gone through incredible pain to sever her connection to her paladin. Like Red, who severed his connection to Keith.

She too turns for the door, but there’s a sound and suddenly her mind is _open._

PAIN IS A PLACE. PAIN IS A PERSON. A FEELING YOU STAND UPON AND QUESTION WHY SOMETHING MUST HURT YOU SO. The blue lion rumbles. YOU AND I UNDERSTAND THIS PAIN. IT IS A PAIN WE SHARE.

Allura gasps.

ALLURA, THE PRINCESS AND LAST TO HONOR THE LEGACY OF THE ONCE GREAT PEOPLE OF ALTEA, I OFFER YOU THIS CHOICE. BECOME MY PALADIN. I HAVE SEEN YOUR HEART AND I KNOW YOU ARE SUITABLE TO PILOT THE BLUE LION, THE LEG AND SUPPORT OF THE MIGHTY DEFENDER CALLED VOLTRON. YOU ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF ALTEA. YOU ARE THE HEART OF VOLTRON. THE FREEDOM AND FUTURE OF THIS UNIVERSE REQUIRES ANOTHER TO FIGHT FOR THE CAUSE OF JUSTICE. I KNOW YOU ARE WORTHY. 

Allura does not hesitate. She runs to the lion. She runs to her future. A _paladin_ , something she wanted for so long. A new future she can call hers. Her greatest wish, one she tucked close to her chest with the memory of her father and her people. She fists the future tight in her fist and she does not let go.

* * *

Everything is different now.

Black does not speak, even when Keith enters the cockpit. His mind is a livewire, a presence so ancient and alive and brimming with thoughts Keith cannot translate. Yet, he does not answer Keith’s questions.

_Where is Shiro?_

The black lion’s stubborn silence persists. Then, at night, while Keith sits in his room looking at the walls and bouncing that question back and forth across his skull, he hears it.

I KNOW NOT, the black lion says. FOR THAT, FORGIVE ME. I WILL NOT FAIL YET ANOTHER PALADIN. 

Keith breathes out. His room is quiet.

His armor, though still red, weighs heavier on him than ever before. It feels like he is wearing the black armor already. It feels like he’s changed. It feels like everything is changing around him.

* * *

Some things do not change. Lance teases him at dinner. Pidge creates...things with technology that Keith didn’t know technology was capable of and all beyond his understanding. Hunk gathers them all into his arms for a very needed hug.

“Don’t change, any of you,” Lance says. “Except Keith. Change your hair.”

Some things don’t change. They stay the same.

( _But_ \--

At night, before bed, Keith spots Lance in the training room long past training schedule hours firing shot after shot alone. He makes eye contact with Keith and nods, and his face is so solemn and no trace of humor in his smile. He’s the Lance that Keith sees in battle.

They’re all changing. Keith hopes for the better.)

“I think they need to talk,” Pidge confides with her lion, sometime later. “They’ve got this weird unresolved tension now, you know?”

“I agree,” Hunk’s voice comes out of nowhere. Pidge shrieks and nearly saws off her leg when her precision ray slides out of reach and off her table.

They both lack the proper tact (or, Pidge does, and Hunk tells her she is “a frightening tragedy in terms of proper human conversation”) to introduce the concept to Keith. Pidge walks over to him in training and says “You should talk to Lance.”

Keith rolls and ducks under the training bot he’s fighting. “I talked to him yesterday.”

“Nevermind,” Pidge says.

Like any good scientist, Pidge evaluates and tests all available data.

“Talk to Keith,” she tells Lance. Round two.

“I just talked to him,” Lance answers, and lifts both eyebrows in an expression to convey his bewilderment. Pidge wonders how much of that is genuine, or if Lance is acting intentionally dense.

“Well, you tried,” Hunk shrugs when Pidge informs him of her unfruitful voyage. “Guess that’s it.”

Pidge eyes him. “Or, _you_ could…”

“Nope.”

“Alright, fair, have a nice day.”

* * *

The black lion senses his paladin approaching from the hall. It is the angry one, the one they once called the paladin of Red. “Hey, Black,” Keith greets when he enters the hangar. The black lion illuminates and lifts his head to face the paladin.

“Can I speak to you?” Keith says. His hands are clenched in fists at his sides. The black lion nods, slowly.

“I’m just...really confused.” Keith paces in front of the lion in quick, hurried steps. He seems agitated, more so than his usual present moodiness. His mind, too, is buzzing with restlessness. Although Keith’s mind is not completely open to him at this moment, the lion can sense the unease emanating from him. The black lion waits.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” the paladin says. For a moment, the black lion feels a sting of remorse for bringing someone so young to the front lines of a war that will likely last beyond his lifetime. The paladin’s heavy and disturbed thoughts probe his mind, so the lion widens their connection to speak.

WHAT TROUBLES YOU, MY YOUNG PALADIN? The lion asks. I CAN SENSE YOUR WORRY. YOU ARE AFRAID.

“I need some help,” Keith says, straight to the point.

I WILL GRANT IT TO YOU, the lion says, and strengthens his voice with the power and might of his being. He is the first of the lions of Voltron. He is older and ancient and will live for eons. He is the immortal defender. I, THE HEAD, THE BLACK LION, GUARDIAN OF THE SKY, THE WARRIOR LEADER, DEFEATED BY NONE AND PROTECTOR TO ALL FREE PEOPLE. I HAVE LEAD AND MARCHED INTO THE REALMS WHERE OTHERS WOULD NOT DARE. I HAVE FREED AND CONQUERED WORLDS. I AM DESTRUCTION. I AM JUSTICE. I AM BALANCE. I AM HE WHO LEADS THE MIGHTY DEFENDER YOU CALL VOLTRON. 

“Uh…” The once-red paladin says. “I was just going to ask for relationship advice.”

AH, the lion says, massively underwhelmed. SO YOU SAY.

The paladin starts suddenly. “So...there’s this guy.” he clenches and releases his fists, as if prepared for a fight. This paladin is a strange one, his mind is a sea the lion does not understand. His thoughts move one direction to another at the slightest change of wind. He was better suited for the red lion, but the black lion hopes he will be tamed...in time. “And he’s kind of...a big _jerk_. For a while. But recently he’s been…” the paladin stops, runs his hands through his hair, and sighs. “I don’t know. I can’t even figure out how I feel about…”

He looks up at the lion. “I guess what I’m asking is...what do I do?”

The black lion hesitates, before answering;

THE NUANCES AND DELICATE NATURE OF HUMAN MATING RITUALS IS BEYOND MY UNDERSTANDING. I CANNOT HELP YOU. MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES AND DEEPEST CONDOLENCES TO YOU, PALADIN.

“Oh,” the once-red paladin says. “Well. Thanks...anyway.”

The black lion watches him leave.

IF IT IS ANY CONSOLATION, I BELIEVE THE ONCE-BLUE-NOW-RED PALADIN RECIPROCATES THE INTENTIONS OF YOUR STRANGE HUMAN MATING HABITS. IT IS IN YOUR BEST INTERESTS IF YOU CONFRONT HIM ABOUT IT. 

The red paladin emits a sharp and startled cry like a frightened beast. He runs the rest of the way out of the hangar.

The black lion’s paladin returns again after a short time. His face is a strange color, a deep red and humiliated hue that the black lion interprets as frustration. Uninvited, the black lion presses against his paladin’s mind and scans through his own (very limited) understanding of human interactions to create an actual response.

I DO NOT UNDERSTAND HUMAN DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION VERY WELL, the black lion shares, like it’s a secret. THE GREEN PALADIN HAS INFORMED ME A PROPER PHRASE USED AMONG HUMANS FOR SITUATIONS LIKE THESE SUGGESTS YOU SHOULD ‘WING IT’ AND EVERYTHING SHOULD HAPPEN AS YOU EXPECT. 

Keith stares at the lion. “You’re no help.”

The black lion rears back in outrage and sends wordless offences to Keith in reply. Keith’s mouth quirks at the corner -- the barest hint of a smile. “But thanks for trying.”

* * *

In a different hangar, not so far away, Lance finds himself trapped in a very similar conversation with the red lion. Despite not being very talkative during missions or in down time (unlike Blue), the red lion takes a liking to the topic immediately. Lance is sure it’s because Keith set the lion up for it and wants to embarrass Lance. (Even _more_ embarrassing, if that’s _in_ correct, it would mean the red lion enjoys sappy declarations of love. Lance’s brain can’t comprehend that possibility.)

YOU SHOULD INVITE THE ONCE RED-NOW-BLACK PALADIN INTO THE PLACE YOU SLEEP, FOR IT DISPLAYS VULNERABILITY AND AWARENESS. The red lion suggests.  LAY OUT YOUR DEVOTION TO HIM PLAINLY, SO THERE IS NO ROOM FOR MISINTERPRETATION. THEN, EXPRESS A MEANINGFUL AND PHYSICAL GESTURE FOR HIM.

“You want me to kiss him.”

YES, I BELIEVE THAT IS HOW THIS WORKS. 

“Ugh!” Lance whines, and rolls over. “Why is romantic stuff so hard?”

AND TOUCH HIS BUTT.

“ _Red!_ ”

DO NOT USE THAT TONE WITH ME. THE GREEN LION SUGGESTED IT. SUPPOSEDLY, SHE KNOWS MORE ABOUT HUMAN ROMANCE RITUALS THAN I. 

“I’m not going to -- _RED!_ ”

GREEN INSISTS THIS PART IS NECESSARY. 

“Pidge probably told her to say that.”

THE GREEN LION IS OFFENDED YOU DO NOT TRUST HER GREAT WISDOM OR THE FREELY OFFERED ADVICE OF HER PALADIN. IT IS A GRIEVOUS PERSONAL OFFENSE TO HER PRIDE.

“Tell Green to cry me a river.”

* * *

“Do you think they’ll figure it out?” Pidge quietly asks Hunk, while Lance and Keith ruthlessly tease each other over the coms.

“That’s up to them,” Hunk says, and pats her on the shoulder. “I’m not meddling. They’ll stumble through it together. It’s better that way.”

Pidge nods sagely, like this is tremendous advice. 

* * *

They find Shiro.

Nothing is like it was. Not everything returns to normal.

“Why won’t you talk to Shiro?” Keith asks the black lion, and tries to mask his own hurt on Shiro’s behalf with cool indifference.

HE IS NOT THE PALADIN I KNEW, the black lion answers cryptically. I CANNOT SAY FOR SURE WHAT HAS CHANGED. YOU MUST BE WARY. HIS MIND IS CLOSED TO ME IN A WAY I CANNOT FATHOM. DO NOT LOWER YOUR GUARD, FOR YOU MAY HAVE LET A LION INTO YOUR SHEEP PEN.

“Ha, _ha_.”

THANK YOU. THE OTHER LIONS DID NOT LAUGH, FOR THEY WOULD NOT KNOW CLEVER WIT SHOULD IT SLAP THEM ACROSS THE FRONT LIKE A LARGE GALLOPING GKHASHAOR. 

Keith does not know what a Gkhashaor is. Or how the black lion knows what a sheep is. He does not ask. He has priorities.

“Can’t you give me an actual answer? I don’t know --” Keith sucks in a breath and holds it. He releases it slowly. “I don’t know what to do.”

AS THE GREEN LION HAS INFORMED ME TO TELL YOU IN EVENTS LIKE THESE, YOU SHOULD ‘DEAL WITH IT.’ 

“ _Thanks_.”

YOU ARE VERY WELCOME.

* * *

Keith pulls away from the team. The Blade of Marmora pulls him one direction while the rest of the team pulls him the other way. A rubber band drawn tight; the break is inevitable.

Keith knows he’s leaning too close to one side. He knows what will happen when it does break. The break is not the worst part. The moment after it breaks, when everything flies apart, that’s where the shit is deepest.

Lance slides up to him after their last (frankly terrible) briefing and lays his arm across Keith’s shoulder. “I know you’re busy with the Marmora guys,” Lance says, voice lowered so as not to attract attention from the other paladins. “But do me a favor, look after yourself? Okay?”

“Okay,” Keith nods dumbly. This feels like it has potential. Potential for something. Potential for something Keith doesn’t know.

Lance stares at him, like he’s waiting for something. Keith stares back. He feels like he’s waiting for something too.

“Good talk!” Lance claps him on the back and walks away.

Keith watches him leave.

YOU’RE BOTH USELESS FECES-WRAPPED WILTING FEET STALKS, the black lion tells him. I AM INCLINED TO INFORM YOU I FEEL VERY EMBARRASSED ON THE BEHALF OF BOTH OF YOU.

“What does that even mean?” Keith mutters.

I WILL TRANSLATE FOR YOU. IT MEANS YOU ARE ACTING LIKE A COWARD WHO WEARS EXCREMENT ON THEIR BOTTOM APPENDAGES.

“I’m going to bed.”

IT IS NOT YOUR PREPARED PERIOD FOR THE RESTING CYCLE. 

...I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME. DO NOT IGNORE ME. I AM THE BLACK LION, HEAD OF THE MIGHTY DEFENDER OF VOLTRON, AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE A SHOW OF PETTINESS SUCH AS THIS.

“I’m giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

Black doesn’t have a suitable response to this, and seethes quietly in the back of Keith’s mind for the next half-hour. Keith feels immeasurably pleased at his accomplishment before he feels any inklings of regret.

* * *

Lance enters his room way past any reasonable hour. His hair is wild. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. Keith does not hesitate when he opens the door and ushers him inside.

“Are you okay?”

“I think I’m going crazy.” Lance says. He runs his hands through his hair. He does look mad, on the side of frantic. He looks at Keith and laughs, but it’s a small laugh. The kind of uncontrolled laugh at the face of imminent peril.

“Maybe you are.” Keith says. He watches Lance’s deep swallow. “Me too.”

Lance runs his hands over his face. “Take offense to this when I say you suck at this.”

“ _I_ suck? Well, that’s kind of --” Lance kisses him before he finishes his half-formed retort. He pulls back. Keith looks at him. He wonders if the hope and uncertainty on Lance’s face is a mirror to his own.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lance says abruptly. He stands and runs to the door. He turns back and spins like somebody’s pulled him by the hook of one of those old comedy shows with the canes dragging people off stage. His hair is wild, but his eyes are alight with something Keith recognizes but hasn’t seen in a long time. “I will, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith says. He feels like somebody slammed him in the face with a cast-iron bat. Lance leaves. Keith doesn’t move from his bed.

THIS IS IMPROVEMENT, I SUPPOSE. The black lion grumbles irritably.

Keith presses his face into his comforter and breathes.

* * *

Keith isn’t here. Keith is away on a mission. Keith isn’t _here_.

“ _Please_ ,” Shiro begs the black lion. “People are dying out there! Good people! I don’t know what I’ve done to lose your trust, but I was your paladin once. Let me give you a reason to trust me again.”

OH, CHILD, the black lion murmurs. The lion’s voice is familiar, like the voice of a parent. The voice is also unexpected, like hearing a stranger speak for the first time. IT WAS NEVER YOU.

“Thanks for having my back,” Shiro tells the lion, after they’ve returned to the castle and settled in for a time to rest. “I was almost a goner today.”

The Black Lion rumbles something wordless in agreement.

Shiro stretches his arm (the human one) and runs his hand across his head. “Ah, damn,” he says. “Looks like something nicked me. Got the top of my hair.” He reaches into one of the organized drawers in the hangar off to the side in search of a mirror. He can feel Black’s presence humming near the back of his mind, as if the lion is biting its tongue. He can tell the lion wishes to speak. “Oh boy. I’m going to need a stylist.”

HOW UNFORTUNATE THIS FATE THAT HAS BEFALLEN YOU, the lion replies mildly. IT IS TRULY...TRAGIC.

Shiro places the mirror face-down on the table and sighs. “I really wish Keith hadn’t taught you sarcasm.”

* * *

Keith makes up his mind. He does what he knows best -- he leaves. It’s not as bittersweet as he expected.

Lance takes his hand right before he leaves. “Be safe.” Lance tells him, very seriously. “More importantly, kick ass.”

Keith huffs, but he smiles. “Thanks. You too.”

* * *

“The team feels different now, you know?” Hunk folds and unfolds the worn picture in his hands. A small comfort. His Mom’s face is faded in the photo from the number of times Hunk rubbed his hands over the photo, tracing the lines of her face. “Shiro’s back, Keith’s gone, Allura’s in, Lance is in Red…”

THE LOSS OF A PALADIN IS TREMENDOUS, the yellow lion sympathizes. IT IS DIFFERENT FOR US LIONS. THE BONDS WITH OUR PALADINS IS DEEP. YOUR MINDS ARE NOT EQUIPPED TO FULLY PROCESS THE WEIGHT OF YOUR BOND, SO THE BURDEN FALLS UPON THE LIONS. 

Hunk sits up. “That sounds...bad. For you guys.”

WE HAVE GAINED, AND LOST, AND REGAINED AGAIN. Yellow says, noncommittal. BUT WE UNDERSTAND YOUR PAIN, ALTHOUGH WE PROCESS IT DIFFERENTLY.

“Still sucks.”

IF I MAY QUOTE ONE OF YOUR FAVORED HUMAN IDIOMS, IT IS ‘VERY SUCKY.’

In the adjacent hangar, Allura lays across the head of her lion.

“Do you think he’s making the right choice?” Allura asks Blue in this small moment of peace. Her and her lion, alone. Moments like these remind her how large the castle is. 

Keith is long gone. Allura suspects he is already on a mission with the Blade of Marmora, given their busy schedule. The paladins are separated throughout the castle. She spotted Lance playing video games in one of the abandoned guest chambers. She passed Shiro dozing on the couch in the rec room. Everyone is taking a break. That is good. They need small moments like these to recuperate before rejoining the front lines.

I KNOW NOT OF THE ONCE-RED-AND-BLACK PALADIN’S FATE, the blue lion replies. THE LIONS EXIST OUTSIDE OF THE FLOW OF TIME TO WHICH ALL OTHER BEINGS ARE ENSNARED, BUT EVEN I CANNOT SEE THROUGH THE WINDOWS OF WHAT WILL COME.

Allura hums, unsatisfied.

WE CAN ONLY DO AS BEINGS OF FLESH AND BONE AND BREATH MUST; WE MUST HOPE.

“Hope,” Allura repeats. She turns the word over in her mouth, stretching it, testing its strength. “I quite like that.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> **deleted scene (aka i couldn't find a place for it):**
> 
> "The black lion belongs to ME," Zarkon roars. Shiro coughs and tries to speak, but the last blow to his chest cracked half of his meta-physical ribs. "Speak to me again, lion!" 
> 
> The black lion speaks, with eons and eons of consciousness channeled through the energy of a magnificent lion. The lion opened it's mouth, and --
> 
> **I AM HENRY THE EIGHTH, I AM, HENRY THE EIGHTH I AM, I AM, I GOT MARRIED TO THE WIDOW NEXT DOOR, SHE'S BEEN MARRIED SEVEN TIMES BEFORE...**
> 
> \--
> 
> yeah...............uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that's all i got. u can kinda tell where i forgot the plot of the show (this show has a plot????????? hahHAA???) and went "yeah this happened about here i think lmao" so kjwsdsdfksdjkjw. i also transitioned so quickly between humor and angst but i figured that fits the mood because this is shitposty but it holds a lot of potential for what COULD be if the lions could talk. idk i'm making this up as i go that was a line of bullshit the real answer is because i felt like it....so deal with it. if you knew me before i posted this, never speak to me again and i will delete this in like 3 years when i look back and go "jesus christ on a bike what was i thinking" but it exists for now so uhhhhhh yeah. kudos, comments, and Authentic letters from the IRS telling me to delete my ao3 account are appreciated.
> 
> i exist on tungle @[nerdhunk](http://nerdhunk.tumblr.com) but never associate with me there. i am praying this gets struck down and i never have to face anybody who i have respect for after this. i cant even belive i POSTED this. im going to leave the internet and retire into the woods with my wife and our four alpacas. goodbye forever.


End file.
